[Updated to correct errors and incorporate suggestions]

     [ I had to write the story in this format because I decided before char. creation that he will not talk about his past. I intend to play him for a long time but if he disappears maybe 
this story has occurred, or maybe I am just too busy to play for a while. Feel free to criticize this story but please tell me reasons why if you don't like it, or don't like something in it. 
"It sucks" doesn't help me improve anything.]



        On a misty night, an old, unkempt, obviously poor, unknown bard shuffles into Kada-El's tavern in Hydlaa and orders his drink. He sits at a table near a wall where he has a good view of the room and places his hat  upside down on a table to collect tria. He looks around at the few customers and wonders why there are so few people on a night so damp. Those who are there are a ragged bunch, none wearing the clothing of a merchant, a guard, or an Octarch. To his practiced eye, none that look like they had trias to spare.

      He sighs and begins to intone a dramatic story in a quiet but deep voice, with the familiar style of a traveling bard, to those close enough to listen. Though his voice is quiet it carries well, and rings out clear. In spite of the background noise, most can hear with no trouble.

     "This is the story, as near as can be determined, of the traveler Thim Wastr. Some of you may have known him as he was known to frequent this area. You may also be wondering where he has gone, or what he has been doing. He never told his story during his lifetime and that only makes the story that much more interesting. His story was pieced together  from papers found on his body when he would rise no more from Dakkru's curse. His body was found in the wilderness, in a remote location, badly beaten. Whether by man or beast none can tell for it laid exposed for several days before being found by a hunting party.

     The papers told no clear story, for that is not why he wrote them. They were not well organized and were badly damage by wear, age, battle and exposure to the weather. Many of the names places and dates were unreadable, but........."  He pauses for effect, and to take a sip of the drink just brought to him.

     "Enough was gathered of the story to put it together. Names and dates do not make the story more interesting,..... so I will leave them all out.

     As a child, a young teen, Thim Waster was excited to be going on a trip with his family. His father, the best and largest weapons maker in a very large town, had a deal to sell many of his weapons to the leaders of a far off town. His mother, a healer, wanted the whole family to go as it had been a long time since they had a vacation, and after the sale there would be tria to spare for a while.

     The deal had been brokered and approved by the leadership of both towns. The deal cleaned him out of mid-quality weapons. Why not high quality, you ask? for budget reasons. The town buying the weapons was not a rich town but had a decent size army that was in need of replacing the aging mismatched weapons it had. The mid-quality weapons and the distance were likely the reason why the officials in his own town did not object to such a mass sale of weapons to another city, but it matters not what the reasons were at this point, Just that the town leaders officially approved the sale.

     Preparations were made to leave. The smith shop, yes he owned his own, was left in the hands of his assistant. A trusted merchant guild was hired for the transport and protection of the weapons. The other healers in town were notified that their business may increase for a time. The packing was done, and it was decided that the family would walk along with the wagon due to the nice weather. Also 2 more wagons would have had to be hired because of the large size of the family. Another wagon may have made a difference in hindsight, but we will never know."

     The bard pauses to take a drink and looks in his hat. He mutters "not enough for some food yet" then continues.

     "The fateful day began as planned. The caravan started out of the city at a slow walk. There was no need to hurry. It would be a nice leisurely walk, sightseeing the whole way. The day was warm and crystal clear. The guards were spread out amongst the family, who were walking and talking happily. The younger ones were skipping, jumping and playing, and there was a festive mood in the air. In spite of the slow pace, energy levels were up because of the excitement and quite a distance was covered that day with few breaks taken.

     Thim was the first to tire out that afternoon, being one of the younger children. He found a small ledge with a rim around it on the back of the overloaded, slowly moving wagon. Likely it was a package tray that was not being used at the time. All the weapons were safely stored inside the wagon, and so he laid down on the tray to rest. In spite of the brightly shining crystal he soon fell asleep with the gentle motion of an overloaded wagon on smooth roads helping to lull him.

     Slowly he woke, with the foggy realization of screams around him. As he fully awoke to a sudden shake of the wagon he heard the clash of swords beginning to fade in the distance. He realized the wagon was moving faster and, by the bumping and jolting, was no longer on the road. A severe impact sent him flying off the tray, and being a Yllian, he could not float to a soft landing with his wings, but he never felt the landing.

     Thim awoke again not knowing how long it had been. He looked around in spite of his head ache and saw he was under a bush next to a rock. At the time he did not know that was what saved his life. The impact with the rock that knocked him out had kept him from moving around and being seen under the bush. It was blind luck, but would shape his life forever.

     After crawling out from under the bush he looked around and saw the remains of a wagon in the distance. And remains WERE all there was. It was hardly recognizable as a wagon and if it had not been for most of one wheel left mostly intact near him, he may not even have known what it was.

     He ran to look, and could not believe his eyes. The weapons were all gone, and the search for his family began. There was not yet comprehension of why his family would not be there, only concern. Maybe concern is not a strong enough word. It was almost a panic. As badly as he ached he forced himself to follow the wagons tracks back to the road. Some evidence of a battle was seen along the way, and when he arrived, but he could not at that age determine from the signs exactly had happened. He was old enough though, and experienced enough in tracking to know it meant nothing good.

     He searched the entire area of the road where the fight took place. He found the remains of the other wagons that had gone, all in different directions, to escape the carnage. Still more and more evidence of battle he found. A much larger area was covered with debris than would be expected, but no sign of his family. No sign of any bodies at all. He no longer noticed the aching in his head where he had hit the rock, and slowly he came to realize the road had been cleaned. Not perfectly. The evidence of battle could be seen in the road if someone was looking for it but the evidence was mostly off the road, beyond the low brush, where it would not be seen by someone casually traveling. You had to be looking for it.

     A sudden thought occurred to him that made him leave the road immediately. This was not the work of sloppy bandits but was the work of an organized war party. They had hit hard and fast, and cleaned up the evidence quickly. They got out of sight before anyone came along the road to see what had happened and where. He knew then that at least most of his family had died. He knew also that anyone surviving would make there way home to tell the officials what had happened and get help. That is what any clear thinking person would do. A detachment of soldiers would be sent immediately to investigate with a tracker to find out who had taken enough weapons for an army.

     So, off the road far enough to hide quickly, but not so far he would lose his way, he started back for home. Traveling off the road through the brush was much slower than traveling on the road, but he was fearful that the war party may come back looking for him, and so would not trust anyone until he got back to his town. He knew his family was well known, and he knew that whoever it was could easily have known they had missed killing someone.

     The trip took several days. The weather was a stark contrast to his mood. It was sunny and warm for the entire trip, but that was never noticed by Thim. There was no more playing and sight seeing. There was only purpose and dread. His mood was dark and his heart was cold. He had to hide often, and also stopped to hunt for food. As everyone knows, any good weapons dealer can demonstrate the proper use of any weapon he sells, in order to better sell them. His father had passed that on to Thim and his siblings. Thim could kill small creatures with the knife he carried, and having been taught survival as part of his weapons training, he knew how to prepare the food also.

     Arriving back at the city, he went straight to his house to see who else in his family may have survived. He was surprised to find the house occupied by strangers. Then he went to the city officials who on learning who he was and what had happened told him to wait there, in the lobby, until the investigation could begin. After what seemed to him like forever, he snuck out to see if he could learn anything on his own. Again circumstances and luck saved his life. He left shortly before the the guards arrived to 'make him disappear' and overheard them discussing what they were going to do to him as they were coming in.

     Going to his fathers business he found strangers there also. There were several people emptying out all of the weapons from the building. People he did not recognize, and he knew most of the locals. In one day his entire life had been turned upside down, though it took several days for him to discover the truth. It took more time still to believe the truth he had discovered.

     He knew someone had betrayed his family. It had to be someone close to the family that had betrayed them. It also must have been someone high in the government or with strong ties to the government that organized the betrayal for the city officials to be involved in trying to get rid of him. Which town or other powerful organization may have been involved we do not know.

     He disappeared into the streets, living for a time in alleyways and sewers. Always he hunted his own food. Rat and clacker meat are not good meals, but they are enough to survive on. He also sold furs and animal parts for the tria needed for clothing or anything else. He decided to dedicate his life to fighting evil. Not just the evil that destroyed his family but any evil he could find, whatever it took. For this reason he never stole to make his life easier or better. He also became suspicious of treachery, never fully trusting anyone.

     He always did everything he could to find who betrayed his family. Listening under windows, talking to people or anything else. He stirred up so much trouble that he was forced to leave the 
city before getting caught, and so moved to another city and out in the wild between cities until he was old enough to really defend himself against those that would have killed him, and make 
himself a 'normal' life. He returned, many times, to the 'place of death' as he named it. He referred to it many times in his papers, He looked for more clues there as he learned more about tracking, but time and the weather took the evidence before his abilities were good enough to make use of any information that may have been there.

     By then the trail had gotten cold and nearly impossible to follow. The notes were made so time could not wash away any more important details. Amazingly, and against all odds, it does seem he located someone who could help him determine who was the traitor to his family. It turns out that it may have been the traitor. He went out in the wild yet again to meet this someone. It was quite some time after this that he was found. He never found out who the traitor was............. or maybe he did. We shall never know. The notes do not name the person or the location they were to meet.

     If it was the same traitor why was his body found but the bodies of his family were not? Maybe they decided it had been so long there could be no other evidence, and so was not worth 
hiding.

     It also may be that he was on the way to or from the meeting and was killed by a pack of creatures, but if so why did they then not eat him?

     Maybe it was a group of bandits, but why then did he still have all his belongings? As is usual with the story of someone's life, there are still unanswered questions..............and always will be.

     It was that fateful day that determined his life’s work of fighting evil. Thim Wastr determined he would fight for what is good and honorable to the best he could. He would fight evil and those that would be sneaky, or underhanded, or betraying, or even dishonorable. In spite of his parents wealth he wound up starting from the bottom with the poorest of poor. He worked hard to become a weapons manufacturer like his father, so he could supply the best weapons possible to those fighting evil in all its forms. He trained relentlessly in all forms of combat, as well as healing magic, so he could fight the evil himself as well as help others to."

     The old bard finished his drink, then picked up his hat and removed the tria. He paid for his drink, placing the few that were left into his pocket, and slowly shuffled back out of the door and then the city. Never did he return to tell that story again.